Really, Really Naked
by Sara Holmes
Summary: HP/DM. "Draco didn't know that there was more than one definition for the word 'naked.'" Posted from KINKFEST 2012. Warnings for specific kink (detailed inside at the top) and mature content.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of this content, JKR does. I am just playing.

**Warnings**: Mature (very, very much so) sexual content.

**Summary**: Draco didn't know that there was more than one definition for the word 'naked.'

This is from KINKFEST 2012. The kink request is from Geneva2010 and is: _Acomoclitic' – an acomoclitic is defined as a person who has a preference for hairless genitals._

* * *

**Really, Really Naked.**

"I want to try something," Harry whispers, his mouth pressed to Draco's, open and breathing words and the scent of wine into his lungs. "Please."

"No," Draco murmurs, even though he doesn't even know what it is yet. "Just get on with it, idiot."

"You don't even know what it is yet," Harry bites along his jaw, pressing him back into the arm of the sofa, his palm splaying out over Draco's chest, warm and firm.

"Potter, the last time you wanted to _try something, _I couldn't sit for a week. I swear I still have bruises."

"Well what's the fun in taking a live-in lover if he doesn't indulge my every whim?" Harry pouts, bites turning to soothing kisses. "Come on. I bet you'll like it."

"Live-in lover?" Draco breathes, arching back and trying to get his body to press against the one that is so close but not quite close enough. "Is that what I am these days?"

"Amongst other things," Harry murmurs and he finally turns his attention to the buttons of Draco's shirt, undoing them with care and then parting the two halves of the shirt to reveal Draco's chest. He pushes the material as far out of the way as possible and then runs his fingers down Draco's hairless chest, down to the waistband of his trousers and then tracing gently back up his sternum to his collarbones.

It's a careful, gentle touch and Draco shivers. He wants to turn his face away but since he accidentally moved into Harry's flat a month ago he can't stop watching the way Harry's eyes go wide when he touches him, looking completely enthralled with his discovery, as if it's new every time.

Harry flattens his palms against Draco's skin and drags his hands back down his chest, lingering before he reluctantly takes his hands away to undo the button on Draco's trousers. Draco watches and distractedly wonders if Harry likes him or just his skin. Maybe a bit of both, he decides as Harry looks up and grins lopsidedly at him, leaning up to kiss him sloppily before turning his attention back to Draco's trousers.

Once the buttons are seen to, he tugs them down to Draco's knees. He immediately lets go and runs his hands up Draco's nearly hairless thighs, eyes wide and mouth open again. Draco watches him, knowing that this has become routine, this obsession with Draco's skin that Harry seems to have.

"You've got a thing for skin, haven't you?" he murmurs as he watches Harry's fingers trail lightly back up his thighs, the touch light and almost tickling.

Harry looks up then, the light from the lamps glinting on his glasses. Draco reaches out to take them, tossing them onto the floor next to the sofa. Harry grins, apologetic and oh-so earnest. "Yeah," he says breathlessly and he looks almost relieved somehow, like Draco's hit the nail on the head. "Yeah, I really do."

"Not a strange, creepy, you're going to kill me and make me into a rug thing, right?" Draco asks.

Harry's face turns exasperated-affection. "You really know how to ruin the moment."

"Just checking there's not going to be any murder involved with the foreplay," Draco says, tone teasing.

Harry doesn't reply, instead he turns his attention to leaning down and pressing wet, open mouthed kissed to Draco's stomach. Draco sighs and relaxes, tipping his head back against the arm of the sofa. As he moves up slightly, Harry's chest brushes against Draco's erection and he shudders. He thinks Harry feels it because he pulls back, tugging Draco's boxers down to his knees as well. Draco tenses and waits for hot breath to ghost over his prick, waits for the teasing tongue that will undoubtedly come out to play with his foreskin.

When it doesn't come, he cracks an eye open and lifts his head up. Harry isn't getting on with sucking his prick, instead he's sitting straddled across Draco's knees and staring down at his dick but not making any movement to touch it. His breathing is shallow and his eyes even wider than before.

"Something wrong?" he asks, slightly worried that Harry's rediscovered something that he actually doesn't like.

Harry reaches out and gently runs his fingers down Draco's shaft, dipping into his pubic hair and trailing through it. "Not _wrong,_" he says slowly and contemplatively, and Draco recognises the tone instantly. It's the one Harry uses when he's trying to coerce Draco into something. Draco frowns and as Harry teases a finger through his pubic hair again, suddenly the pieces all slot together and the thing Harry wants to 'try' becomes obvious.

"No," he says firmly, and then pauses. "That's what you want? Really?"

"You'd look amazing," Harry says breathlessly. "I just started thinking about what it'd be like if you were, you know, _bare_, and I can't stop imagining how you'd look, how it'd feel…"

He just about shudders and Draco stares at him. "You kinky fuck," he eventually manages. "You're really that obsessed with my skin?"

Harry nods violently. "Yep. So obsessed that I think I should have access to all of it."

Draco shivers despite himself, and then tries to regroup. "There's plenty to go around already," he tries.

Harry looks up, blinking hard without his glasses. "Please?" he wheedles and Draco groans. Harry seizes on the impending defeat like a lifeline, stretching himself out over Draco's body and breathing hotly in his ear.

"Just imagine it," he whispers, his fingers trailing over Draco's collarbone. "All smooth and sensitive and perfect…you'll be able to feel every little touch and lick, and it'll just look-"

He cuts himself off by biting gently down on Draco's earlobe.

"Won't I look like I'm twelve, or something?" Draco asks, breath hitching as Harry's tongue snakes its way into his ear.

"No, you'll look all _naked, _and hot, and open and ready for me," Harry groans. "Please," he says, going for unashamed begging._"Please." _

"I cut myself when I'm shaving my _face,"_ Draco tries to argue. "You really think I'm going to put a razor anywhere near my prick?"

"Who said anything about a razor?" Harry says, a wicked grin breaking out over his face.

Draco groans, knowing he's been had. "Can't we just have normal sex and talk about your weird hair-removal-kink later?"

Harry shakes his head. "Come on. I've been oh-so-brave and admitted it, so the least you can do is indulge me. If you don't like it, it'll grow back. Simple."

Draco stares at him for a moment. Harry is watching him, his face pleading and hopeful. Draco shakes his head. "One day I'm going to stop giving into you, you just watch."

Harry's grin is surprised and delighted. Draco makes to sit up but Harry pushes him back down, hands firm on his shoulders. Draco raises an eyebrow in question.

"Here. Right here," he says, edging back off the sofa, face flushed and excitement evident in both his breathing and tented trousers. "Strip off, I'll be-"

The rest of the sentence is lost as he turns and walks away, walking as quickly as he can and nearly running into both the dresser and the doorframe on the way out. Draco snorts with laughter and then flops back bonelessly, wondering if he's actually going to go through with this. Yeah, he knows that Harry likes his skin, likes the smoothness and the paleness of it, but he didn't realise the appreciation ran to wanting his body completely hairless.

Reaching down, he pushes his boxers and trousers down as far as he can and kicks them off and away. He hesitates and then sits up to slip his shirt off his arms, thinking that he might as well be completely naked if he's going to go along with this. He supposes he should just be grateful that Harry isn't a boring-vanilla-sex type of bloke.

Trailing a hand down his body and over his crotch, he looks at himself contemplatively, a small frown on his face. He's half-hard, his arousal having abated somewhat in the wake of Harry's revelation. He'd much prefer that he and Harry were already both naked and rolling around on a horizontal surface somewhere, but he also knows that there's not a lot he won't do for Harry. Not that he'll be saying that out loud anytime soon.

Even though he's trying to, he doesn't really understand Harry's desire to have him bare down there. He keeps himself trimmed and tidy and clean, what more can he do? He still can't shake the idea that he'll look sort of too _young_ without any pubic hair, because if Harry's coming at it from that angle then it's officially weird and creepy and Draco wants nothing to do with it.

A thud from the doorway draws his attention and he watches as Harry walks back in, arms laden and now shirtless. Draco spots towels, a box of tissues and a box he doesn't recognise, but what he's more interested in is the way Harry's eyes rake over his body, gaze heated and appreciative.

Draco swallows as Harry drops to his knees beside the sofa, eyes glued to Draco's crotch. His prick twitches minutely, heat thrumming through Draco's body as it always does when Harry watches him. He loves the way that Harry makes him feel; he can lie here completely naked and feel comfortable in his own skin, and he thinks it's that which makes him give in and decide to let Harry do what he wants.

"Ready?" Harry asks, picking up the towel. Draco nods and Harry prods at his hips, making him lift them up off the sofa so he can shove the towel beneath him.

"I like you like this," Harry murmurs as he pulls his wand out of his sleeve and conjures a basin of water. Draco hopes for both their sakes that it's warm. "Not arguing. Letting me play."

Draco doesn't answer. The truth is there and Harry knows it, and it's enough for both of them. Harry sets another towel in his lap and drops a flannel into the bowl of water, before turning his attention to the box. Out comes an innocuous blue tube, and Draco narrows his eyes at it.

"That better not be Muggle. Or Weasley."

Harry just rolls his eyes and uncaps the tube. His expression goes hungry once more, and without another word he leans over Draco, eyes fixed obsessively on his crotch. He raises the tube above Draco's crotch and squeezes.

When the first rope of cream hits Draco's skin, he gasps at the cold. Harry doesn't bother to apologise, he just reaches in and gently spreads the cream with his fingers, covering the coarse hairs above Draco's dick. It's cold and it smells pungent like herbs, the smell unfamiliar but not unpleasant. As the seconds tick by Draco feels a tingling sensation start to spread across his skin, sort of like it feels when he's just Apparated. He panics for a moment, not wanting to lose his prick if he turns out to be allergic to this bloody stuff, but then as Harry goes to apply more he forgets the thought and his abdomen clenches in anticipation of more coldness.

"Spread," Harry begins, voice hoarse. He clears his throat. "Spread your legs."

Really, only Harry sodding Potter can get away with bossing Draco about. He obediently spreads his legs, squirming slightly as the tingling sensation moves further over his skin, making him feel edgy and impatient.

"Where did you get this idea anyway? Who've you seen strutting around without pubes?" Draco asks, his voice unsteady.

Harry snorts with laughter. "Porn," he replies, and the jealousy that had been threatening to flare up within Draco fades immediately. He goes to reply but then Harry chooses that moment to dab more cream over his balls and he gasps. He's not been aroused by this until now, but with the weight of Harry's gaze and the gentle touches over his balls, his prick starts to fill, enjoying the attention.

Harry notices because a small smile curves over his lips. He carries on, touches lingering for longer, knuckles accidentally brushing against Draco's shaft with increasing frequency. He runs his fingers around Draco's prick and Draco exhales shakily.

Just when Draco thinks that the job must be done, Harry runs cream-covered fingers along his perineum and up along the crease between his thigh and groin. Fuck, he knows he's not that hairy, but apparently Harry wants to do this properly. The thought is confirmed as Harry rubs more cream into the trail of hair that leads from Draco's bellybutton down to his crotch, adding more cream as he goes. Fuck, Draco had been secretly so proud when that had started to grow, and now it would vanish because Draco was apparently unable to deny Harry Potter anything he wanted.

"Why haven't you done your own? If it's so good?" Draco asks, squirming slightly.

"I didn't know if you'd be game," Harry says, shifting on his knees with his eyes darting between Draco's face and crotch. "I didn't want to turn up bare and freak you out."

"So if I like it, we'll be doing you afterwards?" Draco asks and Harry nods. He reaches for the bowl of water and wrings out the flannel, holding it up expectantly. Draco nods and Harry licks his lips and reaches forwards. The flannel is warm, and as Harry swipes through the cream covered hair low on Draco's groin, they both watch in fascination as a strip of naked skin is revealed underneath.

"Fuck," Harry says unsteadily, and repeats the motion. His wrist brushes against the underside of Draco's prick and Draco draws in a breath between his teeth. He tips his head back as Harry continues to wipe away the cream, his dick getting harder by the moment. Harry wraps his fingers just beneath the swollen head to hold it in place as he wipes around the base, and Draco groans at the feel of fingertips on his heated flesh.

"You're fucking killing me here."

"Nearly done," Harry says, voice rough as he swipes the flannel over Draco's balls, his technique becoming less refined with every touch. Underneath the arousal, Draco feels oddly cared for as Harry wipes him down, like it's a bonding experience they're sharing rather than indulging a sexual kink. Maybe it's both, Draco thinks, breathing in and holding it as Harry gently strokes the flannel across his perineum and up over the skin either side of his balls. _"Christ." _

"What?" Draco asks, lifting his chin and exhaling in a rush. "Oh, wow."

"You're naked," Harry says, eyes stuck on Draco's crotch as he drops the flannel back into the bowl.

"Well obviously," Draco says, pushing himself up onto his elbows, his own eyes glued to his now bare nether regions. Harry gropes blindly behind him and grabs a handful of tissues, wiping away the water and residue left on Draco's skin. It feels strange, the soft pressure of the tissue on his skin unlike anything he's ever felt. He'd fully expected it to feel colder, but he wasn't expecting to feel strangely vulnerable as he now does.

"No, like really, _really_ naked," Harry says unsteadily. He reaches out and traces a single fingertip over Draco's abdomen and down to the base of his prick and Draco gasps. Harry was right; it feels so much more sensitive. He reaches down and Harry takes hold of his fingers, guiding them across Draco's newly bared skin and looking to Draco's face for a reaction. Draco is wide eyed and almost awed; his skin feels so _smooth_ and he can feel every gentle caress acutely.

"It feels incredible," Harry groans, bringing his other hand up to tease Draco's balls, rolling them in his palm, continuing to direct Draco to touch himself with the other. "Fuck, it's like you've got no modesty anymore, you're just all on show for me."

He lets go of Draco's hand but Draco can't bring himself to move his hands away, he runs his palms all over his crotch, feeling the familiar planes in a new light. He can't believe how different it's made him feel; exposed and dirty in the best possible way, brazen and shameless. The feeling is intensified as he touches himself; a strange naughty thrill ripples down his spine as he fingers the silky-smooth skin that he shouldn't be able to touch.

He continues to touch himself as Harry reaches for his own trousers, tearing them open. Draco takes himself in hand as he uses his other to tease his newly bared skin, toying with the sensitivity as he thumbs the head of his prick.

"I told you so," Harry pants, clambering onto the sofa and kneeling between Draco's still spread legs. He pushes his trousers and boxers down and Draco licks his lips as Harry's cock comes into view, thick and flushed and already damp at the tip. He moans as Harry leans forwards, bracing himself with one hand on the sofa arm next to Draco's head. Harry uses his other hand to forcefully angle his prick downwards, and tips forwards on his knees so he can rub the head of his cock over Draco's groin.

"Oh, fuck," he chokes as Harry exhales a chest-rattling groan, his eyes clenching shut as he thrusts haphazardly forwards, his prick rubbing across Draco's skin. It leaves a sticky smear low down on Draco's abdomen and he's amazed that he can actually feel it, wet and cooling on his skin. Harry's dick nudges at his shaft, his balls, sliding across the skin with next to no resistance.

"Fuck, imagine both of us bare," Harry pants. "Rubbing off on each other. All that skin, and nothing between us."

It sounds deliciously tempting but Draco's too aroused to stop in order to give Harry the same treatment. He shoves a hand between them to run a finger down from his balls to his hole, already so close to losing it. Apparently Harry is in a similar state because he stops thrusting against Draco's crotch and pulls back, taking himself in hand and wanking himself furiously, the slap of flesh on flesh setting Draco's nerves alight. He doesn't look away and Draco shudders under this onslaught of desire, taking himself in hand too, running one finger over the rim of his hole as he starts jerking himself in time with Harry.

"Come on, Harry," he pants in encouragement, stretching his legs apart as far as he can, so the muscles in his inner thighs twinge in protest. He lets go of himself and runs his fingers up around his prick, showing off the skin to Harry's gaze. He hears Harry gasp and takes himself in hand again, knowing that neither of them can take much more.

Harry's body jerks and his eyes clench shut as he comes, groaning and splashing hot ropes of come all over Draco's crotch and fist. Draco can feel the warmth of it on his skin, the skin normally shielded by hair, and it makes him feel so debauched and fantastic that his orgasm is ripped from him as if in reply. He cries out as come spurts through his squeezing fingers, and he barely has any time to fist himself though the pleasure before Harry is collapsing down on top of him, smearing their release messily between them.

"Oh my god," Draco gasps, laughing breathlessly as he pulls his hands out from in-between their over-heated bodies. "I can't feel my toes."

Harry grunts in response, his face buried in Draco's shoulder. Draco shifts and he notices the brush of Harry's own pubic hair against him, the touch light and scratchy and making him shiver.

"Go and shower," he murmurs into Harry's hair, and Harry looks up. His cheeks are pink and his expression is incredulous.

"Right now?"

Draco nods, smoothing Harry's hair back from his face. "Can't do you as well in this state. I don't know how well that stuff works when you're all sticky."

Harry's face transforms into a grin. "Yeah?"

Draco bites the edge of his jaw, mouthing along the line of stubble. "I'll point blank deny it if you ever tell anyone I said this," he says and pauses for effect. He leans in and presses his mouth to Harry's. "I suppose you were right," he murmurs, and feels Harry smile against his mouth. "And I quite want a go at rubbing off on you when you're bare."

Harry is pushing himself up before Draco can say a word more, clambering off the sofa and half-running across the room and catching his shoulder on the doorframe on the way out. Draco laughs to himself and flops back on the sofa, reaching down and idly running his fingers through the mess on his skin.

"Least it's easier to clean off this way," he mutters to himself, shaking his head and laughing helplessly before getting up, stretching languorously and then padding through to join Harry in the shower.


End file.
